His Whole World
by fando
Summary: Isn't it a little bit weird that the world is hollow and made of cold beams? Isn't it a little bit unlovely that a bullet can shoot straight through the world- nothing's stopping it? Ritsu's blood is the color of rose petals.


Takano fell asleep in the ambulance. When they woke him up, he looked around in a confused, sleepy haze until he saw Ritsu's body on the stretcher. He felt acid in the back of his throat and light-headed.

Earlier, at the World's Fair Park, Takano had kissed Onodera in front of the world. Onodera's cheeks flushed pink, the color of the cherry blossom trees that led in a line up to the Globe, and he looked like he was almost about to say it.

 _It, it it it it it._ The world held its breath. Onodera got as far as "I love-" before someone else cut in, yelling something cruel: "Hey, get out of here, faggots!" This wasn't the time for these kinds of games.

Onodera shut up and ducked his head. Takano could have screamed because this was America, god damn it, he'd thought things would have been better here. He glared and put his arm around Onodera and stalked off, en route back to the hotel.

And then, they found Onodera and beat him up on an isolated sideway street.

They'd been after Takano. Immediately, Onodera had taken Takano's place, pushing him away, and they'd cornered him. They'd just wanted to scare him. Men shouldn't be kissing. It was, like, their civic duty to do this. But nobody thought his rib bones would bend like that. Onodera's shirt got soaked from the blood of his punctured lung. Takano had screamed then.  
God, Onodera only got one good thing out of his allotted 26 years. There were still other wishes he wanted to grant himself, but he wasn't thinking about bad things. He wasn't thinking about time and it running out. As he walked through the World's Fair Park with Takano, he admired the stars in the sky. He'd suffered enough to have a lifetime to figure out what he wanted, right? You have to say "I love you," before the world sees you doing something as daring as loving someone else. You have to say it as soon as you can. You can't just make wishes on the stars in the New York sky, surrounded by cherry blossom trees.

After all, the world doesn't stop for just anyone.

Onodera took his final breath in the hospital room, and Takano was there to see it. A while later, someone came to see him.

"Why are all the lights off?" asked the policeman. He looked down at where two men sat in matching, plastic chairs.

"He wanted them off," said the second one. "I'm his, uh, translator. From the state. Uh, he's from Japan, so…. He's also out of it. He says he's okay, though. But, he's probably in shock. I'm not a paramedic, but y'know, he's way out."

"Way out?"

"Yeah, he's…. You know what I mean. Um, uh, Takano," he said in Japanese. "Sorry, but there's someone here to talk to you."

The policeman glanced at Takano and thought, God, he looks like shit. The policeman frowned at the hospital bed. Takano was holding the victim's hand under the thin hospital bedsheet. The policeman had been briefed about this not ten minutes ago, a gang jump, and he knew there was no chance of recovery for Mr. Ritsu Onodera. There should have been, but he had some sort of a health complication. His ribs should have never caved in, but they had. Like toothpicks.

These things happen, but they shouldn't have been walking around the streets at midnight. What a shame. The policeman wondered if he'd had a girl waiting back home. God, that would be ugly to explain to her. Maybe he could get someone else to make the phone calls home.

"I just need to ask a couple of questions," he said. "It won't take more than ten, twenty minutes, 'kay?" He glanced at the victim. "I think it's a good idea to, uh, do this in the waiting room."

The translator touched Takano's knee but Takano shrugged halfheartedly. The policeman frowned. "No," Takano said, looking up with strained eyes. "I'm not leaving."

The policeman shrugged. "Alright-y then." He shifted his weight to lean against the doorway and started with, "Can I get your relationship with the victim?"

"Onodera is my….Onodera is," he muttered with difficulty, staring at his hands to try and think of the right word. "Onodera is my friend." He shook his head, muffling a choking whine into his scarf.

"I'm fine. Just give me a couple minutes."

Onodera had almost said it back at the park- what he was, what they were- but since he hadn't, Takano couldn't either.

The policeman glanced at the translator. The translator turned to Takano, saying softly that it was okay, the policeman could come back later, maybe he should get some rest, go back to his hotel, this can wait for later. Takano shook his head, pushing his thumbs into his eyes.

"I'll come back later," said the policeman. "I'll get you boys coffee."

When the policeman left, several minutes passed before Takano said anything else. And when he did, he had to look away. He opened and closed his mouth with no words, and swallowed several times.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm not okay. I loved him," he confessed to the translator, who sat back and nodded slowly. The victim's death made much more sense to him now. These things happen. They shouldn't have been so open about it.

If Onodera had just said "I love you," sooner, then Takano could say "Onodera was mine." God, Takano was so disappointed. If Takano was Onodera's already, but Onodera wasn't Takano's, then how could that be fair? How could they be in love while in a situation like that? He hated that. He hated that Onodera hadn't given up sooner. He felt himself dying on the inside because of it. This was just like back in high school, when Oda had been as good as dead.

He looked at Onodera, and at those dead, frozen lips, and knew they'd never move again, and he'd never hear him say it. He couldn't die happy, himself, if he never heard Onodera say it.

The policeman came back with a cardboard tray with three coffee cups. Takano looked up. The policeman gave a hard, forced laugh, and said to him, "The smell wake you up?"

"I'm ready to give my statement."

"Oh? It's really okay. You can wait the night."

Takano shook his head. He needed to move forward, or else this would kill him. He needed to forget all this quickly. Just like back in high school, he needed to forget about Ritsu Onodera quickly; if he didn't do it now, while his mind was still frozen and blank, he would never be able to save himself from Onodera's memory.

Shrugging, the policeman got his pen and paper out of his breast pocket. "Okay, so who's the victim to you?"

Ritsu Onodera. He was the most beautiful person Takano ever knew. That's what he was. Takano covered his eyes as theshock faded and his world broke. He couldn't run away this time, not after all of the times he'd said, "I love you." He'd been the one to say it, so he was stuck here in limbo until... until it ended.

"He was my… Oh, fuck... He never did get to say it." And if Onodera hadn't said it, Takano couldn't either. He sat in silence with the translator and the policeman staring.

"Say what?" asked the translator.

"Oh, it… it just doesn't matter anymore."

"What's he saying?" said the policeman.

"I loved him," muttered Takano; the translator sighed. "But don't tell that guy that."

"But I have to. It's important," muttered the translator.

"No, it has nothing to do with anything," said Takano, covering his eyes. "It doesn't mean anything. It's fucking over. I'll answer his other questions tomorrow. Get out."

Standing, the translator talked to the policeman and walked outside the room. He turned on the light before he left, but Takano got up and turned it back off. He didn't want to see anything. Maybe, it would let him pretend that Onodera was sleeping.

He stared at the bed, at the victim, and sighed jaggedly. He felt cold. He felt like Onodera's ghost was joking the life out of him.

The rest of his life was going to be long, and he knew it, and he couldn't do anything about it.

It didn't matter anymore.

It's over.


End file.
